


The Balance Sheets of the Dead

by the_rck



Series: Audari Empire [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Captivity, Gen, Hope vs. Despair, Politics, War, references to death, references to past rape, ruthlessness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 22:05:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13533492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_rck/pseuds/the_rck
Summary: Kaneri was surprised not to be dead. He didn’t expect that the oversight in his status would be long overlooked, but he allowed himself a little time to breathe and think of something other than where it was all likely to end.The Audari were nothing if not consistent, so Kaneri was certainly going to die, and that death was certainly going to be unpleasant, but he’d known for years that it was coming, eventually.





	The Balance Sheets of the Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Ishion Hutchinson's “Rocksteady.”
> 
> This is not the sequel I expected to write, but this is what ended up working. Vikenti is Sir-Not-Appearing-in-this-Fic.
> 
> References to/hints about rape/noncon in the previous story.

Kaneri was surprised not to be dead. He didn’t expect that the oversight in his status would be long overlooked, but he allowed himself a little time to breathe and think of something other than where it was all likely to end.

The Audari were nothing if not consistent, so Kaneri was certainly going to die, and that death was certainly going to be unpleasant, but he’d known for years that it was coming, eventually.

 _I could have let Biavri poison me, I suppose._ Kaneri might have chosen that if he hadn’t known that his brother would botch the job of protecting their people, their culture, and their faith.

Biavri hadn’t understood that it was about buying enough time to limit the tools the Audari had to control Pynria. Kaneri hadn’t been able to do nearly as much as he’d wanted, but he thought that making three planetary colonies vanish from both Pynrian and Audari records was an accomplishment.

With a little luck, not one of those three would produce anyone stupid enough to want to save the rest of Pynria. Kaneri had tasked them with preservation of things that otherwise might be lost.

Kaneri’s main selfishness had been hiding one of his children on each colony. No one there knew who they were, and by the time they were grown, they wouldn’t remember. A lost heir trying to regain the throne was only going to end up as a corpse. He wanted his children to have lives, to have joy in whatever they might find of value-- art, family, exploration-- something that wasn’t death.

Once he’d been sure the colonies were forgotten, he’d set his people to destroying records. The Audari would have to rebuild the tax rolls. People might still have identity papers, but Kaneri had had all of the centralized records destroyed. There was no longer a way to check whose papers were real and whose forged. No way to document whether the people occupying that land had been there for five minutes or fifteen generations.

People would talk, certainly. Records Kaneri’s agents had overlooked would be found. Records Kaneri’s agents simply couldn’t have accessed would be deployed to help the Audari figure out where everything and everyone belonged.

Kaneri simply hadn’t been able to think of anything that would provide more of his people with opportunities to slip free.

Kaneri supposed he ought to be grateful that they’d given him a cell of his own and that they were still giving him water. He hadn’t had food yet, but he didn’t think it had been even as long as two days, and they’d fed him before forcing him onboard. Maybe they would again. It would only prolong the misery, but he would eat.

As long as the food was clean.

The Gods wouldn’t hold it against Kaneri if he ate something unclean when he was starving, but the Audari seemed to think Pynrians believed they’d be damned for it.

As it happened, when the food finally came, it was clean. The shame came in a completely different form.

First, it was guards who pulled Kaneri’s arms back and bound them behind him. Then, they bound his wrists to his ankles and left him alone against one wall of his cell.

Second, the cell door opened, and two women walked in. The first woman, Kaneri only recognized because he’d paid very careful attention to intelligence about the second over the past three years. If it had only been military and political matters, Kaneri wouldn’t have recognized the Rexaria’s body servant, Brigavenereel Rin.

He still would have recognized the Rexaria as she walked in. The body servant set up a chair then went back out twice and brought in trays. Kaneri wasn’t quite sure what he expected to be on those trays. He’d never been able to decide whether the former-Admiral Hrorek was a monster or not.

When Vikenti appeared at her side in public, he didn’t look physically damaged. He didn’t look unhappy. He did, however, always watch her with incredible focus.

Kaneri had seen his younger brother in love. It didn’t look like that. He had no idea what Mayda Hrorek’s smiles and body language might be hiding, what she might have offered or threatened. Or what she might actually have delivered or done. Every man had a price and a breaking point. It broke Kaneri’s heart to think that Hrorek had found Vikenti’s.

Hrokek seated herself. She looked at Kanri for several seconds the turned to her servant. “You don’t need to stay, Briga. Better not to know.” Hrorek smiled, just a little grimly. “I assure you, if he breaks free and tries to murder me, there are guards close enough to hear me scream.”

The two women looked at each other for several seconds before the blonde servant bowed and said, “As you wish, Admiral.”

When the door closed and the two of them were alone together, Hrorek bent and lifted the lid off one of the trays.

The scent of food hit Kaneri hard enough that he couldn’t quite keep himself from making a sound of longing. He swallowed any further noise and kept his eyes on your face.

She smiled. “You both learned dignity in the same places. I can tell that much. Your control is better than his was, but… the circumstances are different, and you’re older and even more cynical than he was.”

Kaneri didn’t see a point in pretending to misunderstand. “We were both Princes of Pynria.”

“Yes. You ended up being considerably more trouble than I thought you would. I don’t think Vikenti was surprised, but your plans were one thing I couldn’t push him on unless I was willing to shatter him.”

“He didn’t know.” Kaneri’d always known there was a risk that Vikenti would be captured and interrogated.

She actually smiled. “I’m sure he didn’t, but he also… I suspect he guessed. He probably couldn’t have pulled it off as thoroughly and spitefully as you have, but he’d have tried if someone suggested it to him.” She stood, took two steps, then dropped to sit cross-legged next to Kaneri. She pulled the uncovered tray in closer and used a fork to lift a little food to Kanri’s lips. “It’s clean by your standards. I may still kill you, but I won’t do that. For Vikenti’s sake if for nothing else.”

Kaneri tilted his head to one side in acknowledgment of what she was actually offering and opened his mouth to allow the food in. Something eased inside him to know that she valued Vikenti that much. He doubted that she had Vikenti sitting somewhere and watching them, so Vikenti would only know if she told him, and Vikenti would know that she might be lying.

He took a moment to chew and swallow. It was some sort of grain flavored with salt and vikra flakes. He closed his eyes. Vikra was not commonly to be found in Audari kitchens, and he doubted it was in his food by chance.

After she’d given him half a dozen mouthfuls, Hrorek wiped Kaneri’s mouth. “Your life, yours and your other brothers’ lives, were the first gift I offered him. He didn’t believe me then, and I don’t think he believes it now. And… Biavri is fool enough to be dangerous. We haven’t found Sirienti.”

Kaneri heard the unspoken ‘yet’ and hoped that his youngest brother had managed to find his way out of Pynrian space, that his papers would stand up to scrutiny as he departed Audari space as well.

Sirienti had been young enough when the war began that Kaneri had been able to eliminate visual records, vital statistics, anything that might make the boy stand out from among thousands of others.

Kaneri forced a smile. “I’m pretty sure Vikenti wouldn’t give you Sirienti under any circumstances.”

Hrorek didn’t quite laugh. “He was wasted as a ship’s captain.”

Kaneri would have shrugged, but he knew doing so would hurt. “In my place, given everything, what would you have done with him?” Too old to be hidden, at risk from Biavri’s fratricidal schemes. He saw the moment she understood and nodded. “Yes.”

She looked away. “It’s still a waste.”

“You have him now,” Kaneri said dryly. “Make something worthwhile of him if you choose.”

She shook her head. “He realized very quickly that I wouldn’t always have a mere four hundred hostages.”

Kaneri wished that he had any possibility for privacy. He wanted to weep with grief for his brother’s loss and with joy that there was a happier explanation for Vikenti’s choices. “You have those hostages on me, too.” His voice sounded thick with unshed tears to his own ears.

She gave him an odd smile. “I don’t, really. First, I promised him. Second… You decided a long time ago that you were only looking at statistics. No, he didn’t tell me that. Everything you did before surrendering screams that. You weren’t saving friends or favorites or allies.” She offered him more food, some sort of fried vegetable this time. “I’ve done similar mathematics. If you’d been in my position and had Vikenti fall into your lap, you’d have done exactly what I did.”

He probably would have, and Kaneri didn’t like the realization that he and Hrorek had that much in common. He closed his eyes. “Please take care of my brother.” He’d have offered her something in exchange if he had anything a all left. _Please don’t make him watch me die._ He thought-- he hoped-- that Vikenti was strong enough to bear it, but…

When he opened his eyes, Hrorek was studying him intently. She wanted something from him.

Stupid of him not to realize it before. “I didn’t hide copies of the data we destroyed.” It was almost true. The things she wanted had no backups. She might care about the music and poetry and religious artifacts, but none of it was worth looking at him like that. “I don’t know enough of it to matter. Ending up… here… was too likely.”

“Yes. That would be a weak point in the plan.” She nodded as if she were accepting that he wouldn’t leave that large a weakness in the protections he’d been trying to create. “I very much doubt you knew less about my people-- less about _me_ \-- than Vikenti did the day I met him.”

Kaneri allowed himself a sigh. “I have… given you a certain amount of focused attention.”

“Knowing isn’t the same as helping,” she said softly. “But it is penance of a sort.” She offered him more food, and he ate it. “I don’t think,” she went on after several minutes of silence, “that Vikenti ever saw me as anything but what I am. It makes some things easier for me. There’s not much that can make it easier for him except seeing me actually keep my promises.”

Kaneri’s throat went suddenly dry. “I would rather die fast than slow,” he said. “I would do some things for that.”

“And not to die at all?” The question almost sounded as if she thought it trivial.

“That… would depend on the circumstances of surviving.”

“Anonymity,” she said. “Limited communications. Rural exile. Marriage to one of my nieces.” She looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Eleyda, I think. You’d overwhelm any of the others.”

He looked at the corner of the cell farthest from Hrorek and wondered if the assassin that had killed his wife had actually missed his shot at Kaneri. He let that knowledge into his face as he turned back to the Rexaria. “Since it would not be bigamy.” He managed not to let bitterness into that. He didn’t manage not to feel it, but he didn’t let it into his words.

“When you have children,” she told him, “teach them well. One of them might be my heir if one of them is strong enough.”

He felt a burning in his throat as he realised that this, too, was a condition for his survival. He coughed in an effort to clear out the burning. “That is…” He shook his head. “Why would I want a child of mine doomed to--” He couldn’t find the words for a moment. “Nothing good comes from that responsibility, not for the ones who take it on as…” He couldn’t quite bring himself to pair them by saying ‘as we have,’ but he thought she heard it.

She looked distant for a moment. “Have several. The Audari will accept girls, too. A team would be better than one strong survivor.” She met his eyes. “Let them back each other the way that Vikenti would have backed you.”

And he knew the other thing she wanted from him. At least that would be easy to give. “I can,” he said softly. “I can give him my blessing for all of it and mean it.” A few words was a small price to help Vikenti do the things he was going to have to do anyway, to tell his younger brother that he’d made the right choices. “I don’t think he’d believe me if I said I planned it.”

“He would want to.” Hrorek sounded very serious. “But he wouldn’t, not without corroboration that-- You didn’t plan it, and it’s a little late to set things up to pretend you did.” Her expression softened almost imperceptibly. “He loves you. I have taken a great deal from him. I will take you, too, if I have to, but I would rather not.” Her smile was a little bitter. “About half of my clan expects me to throw him over in order to have you. The potential political advantages are obvious.” 

It wasn’t an offer. Kaneri was glad of that much.

“The other half think I’ll just keep you both since I obviously find Pynrians attractive.”

That was… almost an offer. If he wanted it to be. He was almost certain she hadn’t intended it when she’d come into the cell.

“I had thought that I might have to tell you how very long dying might take if you hurt him.”

Kaneri closed his eyes. “I was expecting dying to take a very long time anyway.” The hope that it might not or that it might not _soon_ actually hurt. He bowed his head.

“Yes.” She didn’t say more for a moment. “I should have realized just from knowing Vikenti. I should have realized from seeing your choices. I should also have remembered that you haven’t seen _my_ choices.”

“Apart from Vikenti, you mean.” He didn’t bother making it a question. He licked his lips. “Thinking he was dead was easier than wondering.” Wondering what she’d done to Vikenti, what she might still be doing. Wondering if he’d actually misjudged his younger brother that much and if she wasn’t doing anything Vikenti didn’t want. Kaneri couldn’t look at her because he was afraid he’d see that on her face.

Hrorek placed a hand on the side of Kaneri’s face. She applied almost no pressure. “The thing that hurt him most,” she said, “was having to admit that fighting me wouldn’t save anything at all. Killing me, even destroying my ship, wouldn’t have done anything for you or your people. The part I had to fight him on was… He knew he’d do it. He just wanted me to destroy him, to leave him empty, before I made him do it.”

Kaneri shuddered because he could hear in her voice that she’d have done it if she’d thought it necessary.

She was glad that it hadn’t been, but she’d have done it.

“I’m not sorry to have Vikenti, but I think it’s perhaps a shame that you and I couldn’t have met at a point when we had more to offer each other.” She ran her thumb across his lips. “We might have… changed several things.”

They might have. He leaned into her touch for just a fraction of a second. “By the time you met Vikenti, it was long past hope.”

“Yes.” Her hand left his face, and he opened his eyes. “And you’d probably not have been willing to kill your father.”

He couldn’t breathe for a moment. “Not at a point when it would have mattered,” he admitted. He hadn’t even brought himself to kill Biavri.

Biavri had remained useful, in spite of the risks. Kaneri hadn’t much liked a lot of the people who’d been most useful in the last years of the war. Biavri hadn’t been worse, not once he realized that the Audari weren’t going to buy if he offered.

“I regret-- a little at least-- that I couldn’t afford to offer you terms.” Hrorek did sound as if she regretted it but also as if ‘a little’ might exaggerate the strength of her feeling.

“You were only looking at statistics,” he told her. He wondered if she regretted it for the deaths involved or simply because each one hurt Vikenti.

“That’s generally easier.” She offered him more food, and neither of them spoke for several minutes. When the dishes were empty, she stood and looked down at him. “I will let you talk to him. After, you may choose death or exile or… Yes. That might or might not involve sex. Vikenti has never had my exclusive attention, but in this case… That is a harm I can simply not do to him. If it would be.”

Kaneri had been certain Vikenti was not in love. Now, he rather hoped he was wrong. The Rexaria had no intention of letting Vikenti go, no matter what Vikenti might want.


End file.
